


Stiff Peaks And Cocoa Nibs

by CursedCursingViking



Category: James McAvoy - Fandom, Saturday Night Live
Genre: Bakery, Crack, Crack Fic, F/M, Fluff, Food Sex, Humor, Inappropriate Humor, Innuendo, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:22:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23376082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CursedCursingViking/pseuds/CursedCursingViking
Summary: An absolute crack fic.Reader goes to Michael's(James) bakery after a soul cycle class, feeling exhausted and in need of a snack. Luckily, Michael is an expert.Inspired by the SNL Sketch 'The U.E.S.' - I'd recommend you watch it first! I'll provide a link.
Relationships: James McAvoy/Original Female Character(s), James McAvoy/Reader
Kudos: 6





	Stiff Peaks And Cocoa Nibs

**Author's Note:**

> I repeat, this is a crack fic! This is light-hearted, funny, strange smut, full of terrible, terrible sex jokes. I hope you enjoy it! It was so much fun to write! 
> 
> Here is a link to the sketch! It's super funny, I really recommend you watch it, both for giggles and for reference:)   
> <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A-4E9tZNrVw>

Cool air hit your recently sweat-covered skin as you waited in line outside the bakery - Every muscle is your body ached in delicious exhaustion after your soul-cycle-session, and now you were going for that well-deserved post-workout 12$ croissant. Eventually, the queue moved far enough along, that you were inside the bakery, the scent of freshly baked cherry strudels enveloping you in a warm haze. 

Michael was behind the counter today, wearing his butter-smooth smirk and well-kept blonde moustache. He always knew what the costumers wanted, serving up and bagging in meringues, mini lemon tarts, loaves of bread and baguettes, all day long. 

“Was can I get you?” he asked smoothly with an accent as german as his farther’s and his father’s father’s. 

You bit your lip and felt your mouth water because you were surrounded by such deliciousness. “Mmm, I wanted to see Michael,” you said with a savoury tone. 

The cheesy smile spread across his face like jam on toast as he looked at you closely. “Of course. Pleaze, come wis me,” 

He let you in behind the counter and took you through the kitchen where his dad got the hint to go to the front. The smell in the back was even more heavenly than in the shop, and Michael took the opportunity to pack a small box of delicious goodies. He ushered you out of the workplace and upstairs to his apartment, where you promptly made yourself at home. 

“Oh, Michael,” you began unloading your stress onto the ever-relaxed german baker who had begun to massage your tense shoulders as you sat on his bed. “It’s been such a long day,” 

“Hier,” he said and leaned over your shoulders to fetch something in the little box he had brought up. He put the delicate meringue kiss to your lips, and you took it and let him resume kneading your tired muscles. 

“Mmm, Michael, it’s so good. What is your secret?” you begged to know how the little treat had come into existence. 

“Vell,” he said as he brushed his hands over your back, “is all about patiense. Visk the eggs to stiff peaks mit the sucher - it can take ages, but it iz vorth it.” His hands trailed around your sides and up to your breasts, and through your thin shirt, made quick work of circling your nipples hard to life. 

“Hier, try zis,” he said and handed you a bite of a croissant. 

“Mmm, Michael, this is so smooth. How to you get it like that?” you asked. 

“Vell,” he said and pulled your shirt off over your head. “You must see to ze dough every day, stretsch it and rest it.” His hands brushed over your stomach and down to your legs, spreading them apart slightly, giving your inner thighs a relieving stretch. 

“Now, try zis,” he laid you onto your back and gave you a muffin to keep you busy while he took off your pants and undressed himself too. The banana and cocoa flavour was sweetly overwhelming and deeply powerful. 

“Mmm, Michael, this is so strong,” you moaned. “How do you make it?”

He positioned himself over you and whispered to you sweetly. “Mmm, you have to find ze best and most delicate cocoa nibs.” His calloused working fingers pressed against your clit, making your entire body shiver. 

“Hier, have some of zis,” he said and pulled out his baguette. Perfectly shaped and perfect flavour. 

“Mmm, Michael, it’s so _long_ ,” you moaned. “How are you so good at this?” you wondered. 

“Vell,” he winked, “I have had lots of practise,” 

Your private tasting session went on in a perfect mix of sweet and savoury, kneading and resting. He knew how to handle you, sometimes harshly like an underbeat buttercream, sometimes delicately like a barely-baked choux. His sweet tongue, his salty skin, his soft hair and his hard limbs, it all blended together like a smooth crepe-batter and baked up so tenderly under the heat of his body. Eventually, you core temperature rose to “well done” and you gave in to the amazing sensations he brought you, as he joined you in ecstasy and put the icing on the cake. 

He kissed you sweetly and whispered. “Delisious,” 

“Mmm,” you agreed. “You definitely deserve a five-star review,”


End file.
